


Voltron Ficlets

by Todesengel



Category: Voltron: Lion Voltron, Voltron: Vehicle Voltron
Genre: Multi, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 9,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Todesengel/pseuds/Todesengel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assorted Voltron ficlets of varying lengths. Specific squicks given in chapter summaries. Chapter titles contain pairing (or character) and prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slow and Steady (Keith/Sven)

“Faster,” Sven snarls. His nails leave shallow furrows in Keith’s back. He looks particularly demonic right now, eyes wild with need, hair clumping from sweat. There’s nothing handsome about him right now and Keith loves that. Sven rolls his hips, tries to get Keith to move. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Keith pants out. He pulls back, leaving just his tip inside Sven. The room is painfully cold after Sven’s heat, but Keith doesn’t alter his slow, smooth pace. Sven moans beneath him and pulls Keith down until their slick chests glide against each other in wonderful agony. Sven bites down on Keith’s shoulder. It’s hard enough to draw blood but the pain only makes the sex better. Keith pushes himself up just enough to be able to look Sven in the eye without their noses touching. He kisses Sven, bites down on Sven’s lower lip and there’s a sharp burst of pleasure.

“Not a race. Fucker,” Sven mumbles. He tries to speed up again, but Keith won’t let him. Keith controls the pace here just as he does on the battlefield. But that’s there, where speed is all that matters and everything is chaos and confusion and being able to fly fast and react faster saves lives. Here in the bedroom, Keith insists upon a leisurely pace, taking his time so that Sven is deliciously tortured.

“Better this way.” Keith is trembling and Sven knows that it’s not just from having to hold back. Sven bites Keith again, but gentler, nipping at the soft flesh of Keith’s neck. He licks Keith and tastes fear and exhaustion.

“Fuck me.” Sven lets Keith set the pace, gives in to the slow, honey-like quality of sex with Keith.

When he comes, he sees red and white and black and colors that he can’t name. He can only vaguely feel the world around him, and is only partially aware of the fact that Keith has collapsed onto Sven’s chest. All that Sven knows is that he is warmth. He is happiness. He is still wishing they could have fucked a little bit faster so maybe he could see straight.

Keith smiles happily and swipes his tongue across Sven’s chest, tasting sweat and cum and pleasure. He rolls off of Sven and snuggles close and lets a happy little purr fill his body with pleasant vibrations.

“Slow and steady, huh?” Sven’s breathing is evening out and he yawns as he speaks.

Keith kisses him and yawns with his tongue curling up. “Yup.”


	2. Burnt (Keith)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drug use.

There was a time when he didn’t feel so tired. Keith was sure of this, sure that there was a time when he actually slept in his bed instead of rumpling the sheets to keep suspicion at bay. But he couldn’t remember those days when every second passed unfelt, when his body didn’t ache and his head didn’t pound, when he got more than an hour’s rest in a week. He couldn’t have been born this tired, couldn’t have been born so exhausted.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept, the last time he ate. He could only remember the bitter taste of the uppers and the way he had stood in the shower, under the jet of water so cold it made his heart start and stop in a strange, syncopated beat.

He was running on borrowed time, now. He could feel his cells turning on against themselves, feel the way his body consumed itself in order to keep going. Perhaps he should stop taking those sweet, bitter, little pills.

But there was so much to be done. There were reports and repairs and the Princess. Oh how he hated Allura and her midnight jaunts. If she would only stay in her bed, if he could only believe that there could be a night where she wasn’t abducted, then perhaps he could get a good night’s sleep.

He half believed himself for a moment. Well, his mother did always say he was a damn good liar.

Keith drained the last of his coffee and poured himself another cup. His hands had already calmed, somewhat, and he figured another cup, coupled with one of those uppers, and he’d be as good as if he actually got eight hours of sleep.

Lord what he wouldn’t give for a hit of coke.

He was so tired, suddenly, so very tired. He was tired to his bones, beyond his bones, tired in his soul. He didn’t want to face the day, to face them, face Lance’s concern and Hunk’s knowing eyes. All he really wanted was to lie down and sleep forever.

Even the pills didn’t numb the dull ache.

His heart skipped a beat as he swallowed pill after pill, pounding against his chest in a frighteningly erratic rhythm. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear or feel and then the world came back into sharp focus, but all he wanted was to go back to that strange, dark, comforting place he had just been. It wasn’t sleep, but it was probably as good as Keith was ever going to get.

He'd burnt his candle at both ends for so long. And now the wax was dripping and running. His flame flickered. It was only a matter of time before it went out.


	3. Autumn (Hunk/Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow, melancholy angst. What? I just can't write Hunk/Lance.

It was autumn in the City and the buildings bled into the fog. There was a sharp wind that howled around corners, and it rained often enough that the people caught outside without an umbrella walked the streets with their shoulders hunched up and their heads down. All over the City people were hurrying home, wanting only to be out of the cold and the rain and the dull, grey skies, ignoring those around them with a lifetime of practice.

Hunk watched them through the window of the little café and wished that he could be one of them. He didn’t want to be here, not really, not when he knew what was going to happen.

At least they were in public today.

The bell over the door jangled loudly and Hunk looked up, mostly expecting a stranger and oddly startled when it was Lance instead.

“Sorry.” Lance dropped into the empty chair and shrugged out of his leather jacket. The old leather was splattered with dark droplets from the rain and the hair on the top of Lance’s head was plastered firmly down.

“You came,” he said and his surprise would have seemed more real, more honest, if he hadn’t pushed the café latte with the double shot of espresso towards Lance.

“Of course. I said I would.”

“I know. I just.” Hunk picked at his croissant. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

“Yeah. Me either.” Lance grinned and, for a moment, it was almost like time had moved backwards for them and there wasn’t this dull, sick, heavy feeling lying between them. Hunk even started to stretch out a hand to grasp Lance’s--because they’d always held hands when they went out for coffee--before he caught himself and just let it lie on the table. Lance’s smile faded and he took a large mouthful from his too hot drink to cover his embarrassment. Hunk just looked out the window until the present came rushing back.

“I guess we should get down to business,” he said after a while.

“Yeah.” Lance reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out several badly folded pieces of paper. “It’s all signed. I got Keith to witness.” He pushed them across the table and smiled, weakly, foolishly. “I guess. I guess this is really it, huh. We’re really.”

“Yeah.” Hunk put the papers into his backpack and looked down at his mangled food. He should probably get up now and pay and leave before he made a scene or Lance did or they both spontaneously decided to do something that would only lead to pain and suffering and screaming matches. But he didn’t really want to go.

“I still love you,” Lance said, so soft and desperate that Hunk thought maybe he’d misheard. But Lance was looking at him so intently, so longingly. “Every day.”

“I know.” Hunk sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I know. I love you to. But we agreed.”

They’d had to after Lance’s accident. It had been a stupid little fight but Lance got so mad so very quickly and he shouldn’t have gotten on his bike because he was a terrible driver when he was angry; he never paid enough attention to things like oncoming traffic when he was angry. It had only been pure, dumb, blind luck that only the bike had been crushed. But all Hunk could think about when the hospital had called and told him, his first, involuntary thought was, “Good. Serves him right.”

Because while Lance’s anger burned bright and fierce and brief, Hunk let his rage simmer.

“It’s a stupid agreement.” Lance was pouting and it took all of Hunk’s will power to not lean over and kiss the pout away. “I can’t.” He took a deep breath. “I hate not being with you.”

“I just. I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt,” Hunk said. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that.” Lance fiddled with his coffee cup. He chewed on his bottom lip and gave what was probably a grin but was mostly just pain and want.

Hunk pushed away from the table and stood. He rolled the check between his fingers, wanting to leave and wanting to stay and wanting Lance more than anything else. “I’m sorry,” he said instead of “I love you”. “I have to. I have to go.” He grabbed his backpack. Lance looked down into his coffee cup. He had his shoulders hunched like the people outside. Hunk’s hand hovered above Lance’s shoulder and he shoved it into his pocket.

“Goodbye.”


	4. Human/Machine (Hunk/Pidge)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amputation, cybernetic implants. Or, as I like to call it, stump!fic

“No,” Hunk said. “Stop.” And Pidge backed away, confused.

“Hunk?”

“I.” Hunk looked away, blushed. His hand came up, curled protectively over the pale scar on his belly. “Please. Not there.”

“Oh.” Pidge looked down, wondered if this was, perhaps, a strange new form of rejection. But it couldn’t be because Hunk was still hard. “Why?”

“I just. I can’t.” Hunk’s blush intensified and for a moment Pidge thought that that was it. But then Hunk looked up, defiance in his eyes; he moved his hand away, slowly. “That’s where the machine starts.”

“Oh,” Pidge said and that was the only word he could find. Hunk nodded slowly, looking like he had expected this, and reached for his clothes. “Wait.”

Hunk paused, and the hand came back down to cover the scar. Pidge stepped forward, until he was between Hunk’s still open legs. He touched Hunk’s body, and it felt real; it felt warm and soft and hard in all the right places. He looked up, into Hunk’s eyes, touched Hunk’s cheek where the blush still stained it a subtle rose, and if Hunk’s cheek was perhaps softer, than his belly, well, that was to be expected. “Does it hurt?”

Hunk shook his head, slightly. Pidge nodded, and leaned further forward, planted soft kisses on Hunk’s belly, working his way slowly down.

“Can you feel this?” he whispered, and Hunk shivered in response. He wrapped one hand around Hunk’s cock, stroked it slowly, and Hunk groaned in response. He bent down, flicked his tongue lightly across the slit. Hunk gasped and his hands came up to grab Pidge’s head, pull him down. “And this?”

“P-Pidge. Ah!” Hunk thrust up a little and then seemed to pull himself together. He pushed Pidge away. “It’s not right. I’m not real man.”

“You feel real to me,” Pidge said and he licked Hunk’s shaft, swirled his tongue over the head of Hunk’s cock until Hunk stopped trembling with the effort of not thrusting up and just trembled instead. “Taste real. Your blush is real.”

“I’m just a machine.” Hunk tried to push Pidge away again, but with less force.

Pidge looked back up into Hunk’s eyes, wrapped his hand around Hunk’s cock and smiled again. “Aren’t we all?”


	5. Butterfly (Hunk/Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wingfic gone slightly askew

Lance had gone looking for Hunk, because nobody had seen him in for a couple of weeks. Which wasn't really unusual, actually, since the Brass had just sent them an upgraded Comp system, and Hunk could never resist locking himself away with upgrades and taking them apart to make them 'l33t'. When he started using numbers and backslashes in his speech, the VF tended to avoid him and wait for him to calm down and return back to the world of normal speech. But he'd never vanished for this long before, so Lance went looking.

He found Hunk just as the mechanic was emerging from his cocoon, naked and slick and that should have been more than enough to arrest Lance's attention, but Hunk had _wings_! Little baby wings that fluttered a little, drying themselves off. They were thin, like stretched skin, and brightly patterned, and looked rather like butterfly wings, which Lance supposed made sense but he kept thinking that there should be feathers.

"Hunk," he managed to croak out. "What the hell?"

Hunk looked over his shoulder at the useless, fantastic wings and grimmaced. "Let's just say that I'm never going to frag anybody named '|-|4gg4r' again."


	6. Cold (Sven/Keith)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff

His coffee has gone cold, and there's a string of ants leading away from his breakfast, and Sven is sure that he'd had something of great importance to do this morning. He's going to have to shower again, too, and he knows that he's going to be grumpy and tired later on today. So he sighs, just a little, and that wakes Keith up, just a bit, from where he's sprawled, boneless and heavy between Sven's legs, folded arms resting on the curve of Sven's hips. He smiles up at Sven, a sated, smug, content little smile, and presses a slow, lingering kiss into the soft flesh of Sven's hip.

His coffee is still cold, and he's still late, and he's still going to be regretting this later on today, but for right now, basking in the warmth of Keith's smile, Sven is just simply happy.


	7. Stuck (Sven and Lotor)

"This is all your fault," Sven said and Lotor looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Right," Lotor said. "Because even though I'm bound hand and foot I somehow managed to make the elevator stop working."

Sven crossed his arms and glared. "I wouldn't put it past you."


	8. Shapeshifting (Lance and Sven)

"Seriously?" Lance finally managed to say after he stopped gasping with laughter. "That's it?"

Sven tightened the towel about his waist and, okay, he obviously really needed to work on his glaring skills because apparently the Death Look wasn't quite as threatening as it should be when he was stark naked.

"Are you quite finished?"

"No, seriously?" Lance said again. " _That's_ your big bad lycanthrope form? _That_?"

"Look, it was one werewolf many, many, _many_ generations ago. And it's not exactly like lycanthropy always breeds true," Sven growled. "You haven't to except some degeneration of the form."

"Yeah but." Lance took another look at Sven and tried, rater unsuccessfully, to turn his snort of laughter into a cough. "Sven," he finally managed, "you're a _Cockapoo_."


	9. Cruel and Unusual (Sven and Lotor)

"This is cruel and unusual punishment!" Lotor shouted the minute Keith and Hunk got the elevator doors open. "I have rights!"

Keith shot a glance at Sven who looked perfectly composed. "Ninety-nine bottles of beer?"

"It's a Small World," Sven said.

Keith winced. "Ouch. Good luck trying to explain that one."

"He made the elevator stop," Sven said, calmly. "It was pure self-defense."


	10. Wolf (Sven/Keith)

It was the wolf whistles that did it, because wearing tight pants in public was one thing, but having his fellow classmates leer and catcall him (and lord, he hoped it was just his classmates) was something entirely different, and by the time he managed to escape to his room, sex was just about the farthest thing from his mind.

"You and your goddamn kinks," he grumbled, and he chucked the broad brimmed hat at where Keith lay on their bed, eyebrows raised in surprise. "I think I actually got slapped on the ass by Professor Gantry."

He started to blush as red as the uniform's jacket when Keith just stared at him, not saying a word, and even though he was still excessively creeped out at the possibility that he might have been molested by a man old enough to be his grandfather, Sven felt himself grow hard, and suddenly sex seemed like a _very_ good idea again. Because, well. Keith was using _those_ eyes, the same kind of eyes he'd used right before he'd tackled Sven, stripped him down, and attempted to perform all sixty-four positions listed in the Kama Sutra in one go.

"Sven," Keith said, and Sven shivered because Keith managed to make his name sound like a promise of incredibly good sex.

"Yeah?" Sven tugged at the collar of the jacket, resisted the urge to back away as Keith slowly advanced -- he always wanted to run when Keith walked like that, like a predator advancing on some mesmerized prey. And then Keith had his hands down Sven's pants, and Sven managed to wonder at how Keith had managed to get his hands down there in the first place -- because he knew full well just how tight those damn pants were -- and then Keith's hand was on his cock and Sven's last coherent thought was "well there goes my security deposit".

Afterwards -- and Sven was never quite sure how he'd managed to end up entirely naked except for the hat -- when his brain was once again receiving its fair share of blood, and Keith was happy and well and truly fucked and not looking for another go round, Sven said, "You're still a kinky bastard."

Keith eyed what remained of the Mounties' uniform and shrugged. "Hey, I didn't tell you to wear it home."


	11. Bookmark (Keith/Sven)

Lance lasted about two weeks before he stuffed all of his things into his duffel and stomped out of the room, shouting, "God, you two are such anal-retentive freaks!" and then it was just the two of them, which suited Keith just fine because, well, Lance was right, he and Sven kind of were anal-retentive. Besides, Keith liked quiet, and neat, and Sven was all of those things besides being intensely attractive, and it was so much easier to seduce someone when you didn't have to worry about attracting the wrong guy.

Keith waited to make until the night after finals, when they were both full of pent-up nerves and Sven was obsessively re-reading his physics textbook for the eleventh time, absolutely convinced that he'd mixed up the mnemonics for torque and friction. His brow was furrowed and he was chewing his lower lip, and, okay, so Keith hadn't really planned on jumping on Sven and pulling on his shirt so hard he ripped it, but sometimes spontaneity was okay.

"Wait, wait," Sven said, in between rather actively not trying to stop Keith from having his carnal way with him. "I'm going to lose my place."

"Don't worry," Keith said. "I'll buy you a bookmark."


	12. Texture (Keith/Sven)

The one time he'd mentioned it, Sven had laughed at him and Keith hadn't mentioned it again, but that didn't change the fact that the thing he liked most about Sven was the way he was textured – all the little dips and bumps of his skin. A story told in scars and Keith had always been an avid reader.


	13. Stripes and Flames (Voltron Force)

**Keith, Lance, Sven vs. Hunk**

This time, when Keith put his foot down Lance and Sven came down on his side.

"Oh come on," Hunk said, because he was stubborn and kept going even after he knew he was beat.

"You're not putting racing stripes on the lions," Keith said. "And that's final."

 

 **Hunk and Lance**

The first time Keith saw it, he nearly flew Black into the castle, and they _knew_ they were in trouble long before Keith got on the horn and growled at them to get their asses down on the ground _now_.

Lance still thought they could talk their way out of trouble even after they saw Keith stalking towards them, but Hunk had always been a pragmatist and he said, "It'll come right off, no problem," as soon as Keith came within ear shot.

"It'd better," Keith growled, and then popped a couple of pills from the bottle of aspirin he'd taken to carrying around with him.

"Oh come on," Lance said. "It's kind of appropriate, don't you think."

"No," Keith said. "I don't." He sighed and shook his head and then looked at Hunk. "Seriously. Flames, Hunk? _Flames_?"

"Sorry." Hunk shrugged and looked up at Red's muzzle. "I thought it'd look cool."


	14. Two Variations on Hot/Cold (Keith/Sven)

**Variation One**

 

"Body heat," Sven said and Keith nodded and shivered and clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. His fingers were heavy and awkward and it took him forever to strip down to pale, bumpy flesh. The first touch of Sven's skin against his made him flinch – cold, like a glacier wall, and for a moment Keith was filled with the certainty that this wasn't going to work and they'd die and everybody would get the wrong idea when their naked, frozen corpses were found in the spring thaw. But it was too late to stop now and any hope was better than no hope and so he steeled himself against the sensation of embracing Sven's cold, clammy flesh and pressed their bodies tightly together until there was no space between them.

The heat came slowly, like sunlight warming water, spreading little by little through his body, infusing the cocoon of blanket and sleeping bag they'd wrapped themselves in. Keith listened to the world muffled by snow and Sven, to their heavy silences, and he wasn't at all surprised to feel the sharper heat of Sven's cock pressed against his belly.

"Good idea," Keith said when he was sure he could open his mouth without shaking his teeth free.

"Yeah," Sven said, and he moved, slowly, a long gentle slide against Keith's body. "Best way to survive the cold – body heat and friction."

 

 **Variation Two**

It wasn't like he jumped Sven the minute they were put on the rescue choppers, or anything. He did have some sense of public decency, after all, and just because he didn't want to be rescued smelling of sex and covered in semen, didn't mean he wasn't just as turned on by the feel of Sven's body crowding against his as Sven was, and after all, the whole reason they'd gone off on this ill-conceived camping trip had been to find a nice quiet place to have loud and obnoxious sex. So, really, he didn't see why Sven was being so reluctant about making up for lost time here, especially since they had the room to themselves for at least the next twenty minutes.

"Keith. _Keith_. We're not having sex here."

"Come on, think of it as a hot tub."

"Warm water does not a hot tub make. Besides, I think my dick is frozen."

"So let me warm it up."

"That's quite possibly the lamest pick-up line I've ever heard."

"Right, but trying to have sex in the middle of freezing to death is such a wonderful idea."

"Hey, I figured if we were going to go out, we should go out smiling."

"Hmph." Keith settled back against the wall of the tub, sending warm waves that crashed and rebounded. He flicked droplets of water from his fingers and watched the ripples spread across the bath like the heat spreading up from his numbed toes and, okay, so maybe Sven had a point that now was not the best time in the world for sex. It was pleasant enough to just soak here and feel the blood returning to all the parts of his body and besides, if he waited then there'd be a bed and curtains and the distinct possibility of lube.


	15. Irish (Shannon, Jeff, Cliff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even more violation of canon than normal because I really don't remember the Vehicle Voltron boys.

"Can't do it, Cap'n," Shan said and Jeff snapped back, "What you 'donna hae th' power'?" and the next thing he knew he had a black eye and Shan was standing over him growling, "I'm Irish, asshole."

After Shan stalked away, Cliff came over and pulled Jeff up.

"Throws a mean hook, doesn't he," he said and Jeff nodded, but slowly.

"I take you've been on the receiving end?"

"Yup." Cliff grinned, sort of wry and sheepish. "Just be glad you didn't ask him to 'beam you up'."


	16. Retirement (Keith/Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reference to the Beatles song "When I'm Sixty-Four"

Keith retired when he was seventy-three, after he'd woken up one day and decided that if he heard reveille one more time he'd have to kill someone and that wasn't something Vice-Admirals did.

Two days later, a bottle of wine, a bunch of roses and a card with a scrawled message reading "You're late" showed up on his doorstep.

Three days later he showed up on Lance's door bearing the same bottle of wine, a different bunch of roses, and the ancient sea-trunk he'd gotten from his father when he first shipped out.

"What do you mean, 'I'm late'?" he said when Lance opened the door.

"Sixty-four, Keith. You were _supposed_ to retire at sixty-four." Lance took the wine and they left the trunk on the porch because Keith had a bad hip and Lance had a bad back and Keith knew that Lance had probably terrorized the neighborhood enough so that anything left on Lance's porch would stay there until it either rotted away or Lance got someone to bring it inside for him.

"Since when?" Keith dropped his jacket over the back of an overstuffed club chair.

"Since always. Although I'm warning you now that there will be no knitting on my part and we're renting a cottage in Hawaii and not the Isle of Wight."

"So I take it that you'll still need me _and_ feed me, then."

"Yup." Lance put the bottle down on a kitchen counter and kissed Keith gently, his arms sliding around Keith's waist in familiar possession. He broke the kiss and smiled, and all the laugh-lines he'd accumulated over the years made his face seem as young as it had when they'd first met. "I'm going to be locking you out if you're out about town until half-past three without me, though."

"Fair enough."


	17. Envy (Keith, Black Lion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentient robots

Most of the time, Keith didn't really think about it. It was just one of those things, one of the weird quirks of life on Arus that he'd grown used to over time and learned to ignore. Sometimes, though, like right now, when Black was fighting him using sticky buttons and system lock-outs and making funny engine noises when Keith tried to get him to just put his head down and push, damn it, because that boulder wasn't going to be moving itself any time soon, he envied the others.

It figured he'd get stuck with the temperamental lion.


	18. Jealousy (Keith, Black Lion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentient robots with big ass guns

Keith would've chalked it all up to stress-induced hallucination if Black hadn't suddenly taken off and circled three times around Arus' sun and then dive-bombed the castle, stopping less than an inch from the Princess' suite the second Keith had tried to use the lion's communications relay to put in a bid on a sweet little one-man starfighter.

Keith waited until his heart stopped trying to exit his body via his throat and then assessed the situation.

Black's panels blinked innocently up at him, and Keith cautiously moved the lion away from the castle and out into an open field where, if he should happen to suddenly self-destruct, at least he wouldn't take more than some innocent wildlife with him.

He very carefully accessed the bid page and stared at the picture of the starfighter – now defaced with a drawing of a big, ridiculous black moustache and a cartoon-y speech-bubble saying "I am dumb" coming from its nose.

Keith sighed.

Great.

Now the lion was _jealous._


	19. What If 'verse (Sven, Allura, Blue Lion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in a completely unfinished fic 'verse based entirely on the premise of: what if Keith had been the one to "die" in the attack and ended up in the Pit o' Skulls

It was...different when Sven was in the lion with her. Not bad, just.

Smoother, maybe. Or more playful. Happier.

Something.

Whatever it was, it made her jealous, and she couldn't tell if she was jealous of Sven for having this...thing with the lion or of Blue for being able to touch a place inside him that she couldn't reach – a strange, wistful place that made her heart ache.


	20. Lost -- again (Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in another unfinished fic wherein Lance has a perfect sense of direction -- so long as he can see the sky

It was _supposed_ to be a simple "point to point" test, and okay, so maybe Lance had gotten a little cocky with the whole "keep your compasses, I don't need 'em" thing, but, well, he had an image to maintain and up until three days ago he'd never been well and truly lost, completely turned around and utterly, woefully disoriented.

Of course, up until three days ago, he'd always had the sun and the stars to rely on.

Trust the Brass to pick a nearly flat, tree-filled planet with a rainy season that never stopped.

"Goddman water soaked, fucking tree-infested plant," he shouted to the world in general, because he was lost and he didn't like it, and it was raining _again_ and he _really_ didn't like that, and he was _still_ stranded in the middle of Nature instead of back aboard ship, gloating over the fact that he'd finally beaten Keith at one of these stupid exercises.

Lance sighed, not really feeling better for all the shouting and continued his climb. Sooner or later he'd get out from underneath all these trees.

Sooner or later, he'd be found.


	21. Perfection (Lance/Sven)

There were times when Lance really admired Sven's whole "must be perfect" thing – there had to be, even if Lance couldn't think of any of them at the moment – but there was, of course, a time and place for things and right now striving for perfection was definitely _not_ a welcome trait.

He groaned as Sven slid another finger inside him and wished he'd been faster (or less distracted) when Sven had pulled out the handcuffs – or, barring that, that the welds on the headboard were a little less solid and made-to-last and that he could rip the bar off and bring his hands down and possibly beat Sven into unconsciousness because _come on_. This was practically torture and they had laws against that kind of thing.

"Jesus," he growled. "Would you just hurry up and stick it in already? I'm fine, I'm great, I'm ready."

"Not yet," Sven said and he removed all of his fingers and that really, really sucked and Lance was so going to get him back for this, although right now he mostly just wanted those fingers back.

"Sven. Not everything has to be perfect."


	22. Ever have the feeling you were being watched? (Hunk/Pidge, Yellow Lion, Green Lion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentient robots

They usually did it in the repair hanger because nobody ever went there and Pidge's favorite role-playing scenario was the "down on his luck traveler has to pay mechanic for emergency repairs with his body" and was really, really into verisimilitude. Usually, things go to the point about half-way through the whole thing where they were both so caught up with the sex that they wouldn't have stopped even if a group of camera-toting tourists traipsed through the hanger and stopped to take a whole bunch of pictures of Hunk's naked ass.

Today, though—

Well, today something was off, and Pidge stopped in the middle of the blowjob he'd been trying very hard to concentrate on and failing miserably and said, "Is there. We're not being watched are we?"

Hunk, who'd also been feeling the strange prickling feeling of unseen eyes leering at him, shook his head, but slowly and with reservations. "I don't. No. It's just us. And these guys, of course," he said and patted his hand against Green's paw.

"Huh." Pidge sat back on his heels and looked up at the silent bulk of Green, and then over to where Yellow rested and frowned. The strange feeling of being watched crept up on him again and suddenly the last thing he wanted to do was have sex in the shadow of the lions.

He looked over at Hunk and his wilting erection and knew he wasn't the only one.

"Listen," he said, slowly. "Why don't we—"

"Yeah." Hunk pulled up his pants. "Yeah. Good idea."


	23. Same old, same old (Hunk on the VF and VV boys)

Hunk was almost convinced that the whole "friendship celebration" Hawkins had cooked up and made them attend was actually going to work and nobody was going to get sent to the infirmary right up until Jeff started hitting on Lance. Which, okay, normally not that big of a deal because every time Jeff got a few into him he'd hit on Lance and this had been going on since they were in the Academy. And Lance had always been in some kind of weird, excessively co-dependent relationship with Keith and Sven, although admittedly Hunk was fairly certain that the sex component hadn't happened until Arus (although, okay, Hunk was sure the three of them had been sleeping with each other back at the Academy, but only on a one-to-one basis), but still.

This was just what happened when they all got together: Jeff got drunk and hit on Lance, and Keith and Sven (who really weren't nice guys now that Hunk thought about it) would laugh and take embarrassing pictures and then someone – usually Cric because he was the only one who'd still be totally sober at that point – would put Jeff to bed and there'd be about a month of mocking and then things would settle down until the next time they were all forced to be in the same room for more than twenty minutes.

Except this time, Jeff grabbed Lance and kissed him, and then Keith and Sven were pulling him off and Keith was holding Jeff's arms while Sven pulled back to hit him, and things more or less degenerated at that point because Cliff had tried to stop Sven and then Lance had kneed Cliff in the nads and—

Well, to be honest, Hunk had more or less stopped watching at that point and had carefully slipped out of the room because he so didn't want to be dragged into this mess, and anyway the three of them could take care of themselves because Sven and Lance just fought dirty and while Keith had some sort of moral code he'd also been a scrawny kid growing up in a bad part of the galaxy and even if he didn't go for the balls he knew a trick or too that definitely hadn't been included in the "Gentleman's Guide to Fisticuffs".

Five minutes after he heard the first sounds of glass breaking, Pidge called him on his cell phone because Pidge had been smart and had disappeared with Chip to do brotherly-type things.

"Hey," he said. "How're things going?"

Hunk poked his head around the door and took in the body count.

"Oh you know," he said. "Same old, same old."


	24. Summer (Keith/Lance)

The world smelled like summer – sunshine and salt and coconut sunscreen and mangoes; which, admittedly, wasn't the kind of summer Lance had had growing up, but if he'd had to describe how summer smelt, tasted, felt, he'd be hard pressed come up with something other than sunshine and salt and sand. This was summer – eternal, forever, unchanging, and Lance leaned back on his elbows and let the ideal of summer wash over his body and seep into his bones.

He was almost asleep with he became aware of the shadow, and he tilted his head opened his eyes and squinted up at Keith, back-lit against an impossibly blue sky, and holding two sweating beer bottles by their necks.

"How much do you love me right now?" Keith said, a small, almost-smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"I don't know." Lance tilted his head to the side. "More than Sven. Less than sex."

"Hmm." Keith put the bottles down in the sand, then stepped over Lance and sat down until he was straddling Lance's waist. Lance was already half-hard by the time Keith's weight settled down on him, and then Keith leaned forward and gave him a slow, smoky kind of kiss, and Lance went from mostly interested to desperately horny, and he'd already worked Keith's swim trunks down off his hips before Keith pulled back and forced his hands away.

"How much do you love me now?" Keith asked, and Lance growled, "It's going to be a lot less than I did five minutes ago if you're just going to tease me like this."

Keith rolled his eyes, and waved the hand he'd been holding in front of Lance and that was when Lance saw the paper; tiny, typed black rows that were more or less meaningless until he saw the words "two months" and "extension".

"Well?" Keith said, and the smug smile turned into a tiny yelp of surprise as Lance suddenly sat up and rolled forward until he'd gotten Keith pinned beneath him.

"Right now," Lance said, when they were nose to nose and he was slowly grinding against Keith and grinning a little at the way Keith's eyes went slightly out of focus, "I love more than summer."

"More than summer," Keith said, reaching up and tangling his hands in Lance's hair. "I can live with that."


	25. Mango (Keith, Hunk)

Hunk opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Keith, glaring at him with an expression that was equal parts relief and anger.

"You idiot," Keith said when he saw Hunk's eyes were open.

"Sorry," Hunk rasped. He reached up and felt the edges of the bandage that covered the trache hole.

"Three helpings," Keith said. " _Three_."

"Sorry," Hunk said again, and then, because he felt like there needed to be more, "I just. It's so damn good."

"I don't care. What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?" Keith's hands knotted convulsively in the hospital bedding in a way that left no doubt that what he'd really rather be closing them on was Hunk's neck.

"No," Hunk said, contritely.

"Mango pudding," Keith growled, and Hunk was pretty sure that Keith was venting at the world now and not at him specifically. " _Mango pudding_. I had to get the mechanic who'd take three helpings of mango pudding when he's allergic to mangoes."

"Yeah but," Hunk said, "it was only three."


	26. Heat (Keith/Sven)

The worst part was that he kept drifting in and out of lucidity, which was probably a good thing, from a medical stand point, but for his own sake Sven wished Keith would just stay delirious. It was easier to pretend that Keith wasn't suffering when he was delirious.

"How long?" Keith asked in a moment of clarity and Sven didn't know if he was asking how long he'd been out or how long he had left or how long until the promised rescue came.

"Don't know."

"I'm cold."

"Yeah," Sven said and shifted closer, and didn't say a word about how holding Keith's body felt like grabbing onto a piece of metal left to bake in the sun – hot and painful and dry in a way that made Sven's palms sweat; hot everywhere but especially right around the gash in his thigh, where the skin was yellow and the wound oozed clear, angry pus.

"Sorry," Keith said some time later.

"For what?" Sven asked, but Keith was gone again and his words fell on deaf ears.


	27. Dance Lessons (Keith/Lance)

"One, two-and-three, four." Keith counted the rhythm under his breath, spun, side-stepped and—

Ran straight into Lance, who would have been laughing his ass off if Keith's elbow hadn't caught him right in the stomach.

"Dancing?" Lance finally wheezed. "I never would have expected it."

"As an officer, one must always be prepared –" Keith began and then stopped when Lance closed his eyes and pretended to snore. "Fine," Keith muttered petulantly. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to read the officer's handbook every so often."

"Oh it would hurt me, Keith. It really would. It might make me start dancing, and then where would I be?"

"Having sex?"

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Really," he said, in a flat, disbelieving tone.

"Dancing – proper dancing, I mean – is a great prelude to sex," Keith fired back, somewhat snippily. "Here." He grabbed Lance's hands before he could protest and stepped in close until they were groin-to-groin, chest-to-chest.

"Follow my lead," he said in Lance's ear.

And then they began to dance.


	28. Pieces (Lance, Hunk)

"I don't think this is right," Lance complained and Hunk sighed and looked over at the bit of the puzzle Lance was doing.

"That's because you're trying to force a bit of the sky into part of the lake," Hunk said. "Here. Try this one."

Lance snapped the piece into place and then watched Hunk for a while as he quietly – and more importantly, accurately – took the mess of jigsaw pieces and put them into a coherent whole.

"How do you do that?" Lance asked after a little while.

Hunk shrugged. "I don't know. I just. I see the way all the pieces are supposed to fit."


	29. Acrobatics (Hunk/Pidge)

" _He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease, that daring young man on the flying trapeze."_

Pidge grimaced. There were many things you could say about Hunk, but possessing a beautiful singing voice was not one of them.

"Flying trapeze, huh?" Pidge said, more to shut Hunk up then because he was truly interested in talking. "Is that some kind of a hint? Should I be looking for leather…thingys?"

"It's just a song," Hunk said, rolling his eyes. "That's all."

"Oh." Pidge pursed his lips, surprised to find that he was a little disappointed.

"However," Hunk said, slowly. "I'm sure we could find a use for leather…thingys."


	30. Relief from the rain (Keith/Lance)

Keith liked to think he was a patient man – hell, he had to be a patient man, given that he hadn't committed regicide after the third time Allura pulled her "endanger the fate of the known Universe while sleepwalking" shtick – but even he had his limits, and watching Lance do his "I'm bored" prowl – the one where he stalked around the room and flopped on the couch and picked up a book and then sighed in a highly aggravated fashion before tossing the book down and starting all over again – for three hours would try the patience of a stone.

"Lance," he said, after Lance sighed a particularly "woe is me" sigh, "would you kindly fuck off and let me work?"

"Can't," Lance whined. "It's raining."

"And?"

"And I'm bored." He flopped down on the couch. "Entertain me, Keith."

"How about no. Unlike you, I'm actually occupied with something." Keith pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Y'know, you could always do your paperwork."

"Not that bored," Lance muttered. He got up from the couch and began to pace again, stopping this time in front of the window. "Fucking rain."

"Jesus." Keith sighed and took off his glasses. "Fine. Come here."

"What for?" Lance said, rightly suspicious.

"We've got a door that locks and nothing to do," Keith said. "Or at least, _you've_ got nothing to do and I'm not going to get anything done until I find a way to shut you up. So I'm going to give you a blow job, and then you're going to shut up and let me be productive, okay?"

Lance's smile was somewhere between a smirk and a grin. "Yeah. That works for me."


	31. You got me what?! (Sven/Lance)

"An electric hand mixer," Sven said, in a calm, flat voice.

"Yeah." Lance leaned forward on his stool like a small child seeking praise from a parent. "Do you like it?"

"You got me an electric hand mixer for my birthday."

"Yeah, I think we've established that."

Sven took a deep breath, counted to ten, and reminded himself that (a) he did love Lance and (b) Keith would ride his ass in an oh-so-not-pleasant way if he killed Lance with his brand new electric hand mixer.

"Why?" he said at last.

Lance grinned at him, that all-innocence grin that Sven had learned really meant that Lance was thinking thoughts guaranteed to shock priests and old women. "Well, I thought maybe you could bake a cake."

"A cake," Sven said.

"Yup." And Lance grabbed the small, black bag he'd put at the bottom of his feet and upended it on the counter in front of Sven in a riot of colors and clinks whose only consistent feature was that the writing on them all involved the words "edible" and "sex" in some order. "And then I thought we could ice it."


	32. Menial Labor (Sven/Lotor)

"Haven't you ever done this before?" Sven asked, and Lotor sneered at him imperiously.

"I," he said, with all the haughty arrogance he possessed, "am the Prince of Doom; I don't do--" another sneer, this time accompanied by a vague hand gesture "--menial labor."

"No, you _were_ the Prince of Doom; and, now, you _do_ do menial labor." Sven slammed to door to the washing machine with a little more force than was exactly necessary. "Or at least you will once I get you trained." He sighed and shoved a basket of clean clothes into Lotor's arms. "Here. Fold this, will you?"

"You make it sound as if I'm some sort of monkey to be taught tricks for the amusement of the masses." Lotor gingerly picked up a shirt, then put it down with a wrinkling of his nose.

"Not at all. A monkey would be a faster learner." Sven dumped in the last of the white clothes and turned on the machine. It rumbled, loudly at first, and then settled down into a steady hum. "Anyway it doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh." Lotor looked around and pushed the clothes away from him -- discreetly, of course. "Well. Now what?"

Sven grinned, somewhat ferally. He backed Lotor up against the humming machine and kissed him, swift and devastating. "Now, the fun part begins."


	33. Messy Death to Mollusks (Hunk, Lance)

"Look, I said I was sorry," Lance said, dabbing at Hunk's hand and, honestly, not looking all that sorry if Hunk was to be the judge of things. Hunk ratcheted up the glare in response and decidedly did not wince at the alcohol stung his hand.

"I mean, I know you were all excited about the big romantic dinner," Lance continued, "and I know I said I would help, but you can't blame this on me. Really Hunk, you can't."

"Hmph," Hunk said, and he would have crossed his arms and glared even harder if it hadn't been for the fact that he was trying to keep the bloodstains to a minimum – he really liked this shirt, after all – and Lance was still holding his hand.

"Honestly, Hunk," and Lance let go of his hand and looked up and there was laughter and exasperation in his eyes and Hunk wondered if Lance had forgotten that he was dealing with the God of All Things Lion and could do really, really bad things to Lance. Really bad things. Like, like, like—

Well, ok, so he couldn't think of anything bad right now, but still. Bad things. To Lance. File under the Shit To Do Very Soon.

"But I have to tell you, oysters? Especially alien oysters? Not a good idea. I mean, first off, nobody is going to be feeling romantic after eating a mouthful of chewy snot. And secondly, hello, alien! You should've expected they'd fight back."

Hunk sighed and looked around at the Great Alien Oyster Massacre that lay before him. There were bits of sharp, pokey, sharp, jagged, sharp shells and grey bodies and slime scattered everywhere, and, ok, maybe he'd gone a little overboard with the laser pistol, but after that first oyster leaped out of his hand and tried to bite his nose as he was shucking it, could anybody blame him?

"I know," Hunk said, a bit mournfully. "But it's our anniversary. I wanted it to be special."

"Dude," Lance said. "Don't worry." He held up one of the few mostly intact oysters by a charred tentacle and visibly swallowed a dry heave. "Show him this and I'm sure he'll understand."


	34. Insomnia (Keith)

_Sometimes_ , Keith thinks, as he's shaken out of bed by the alarm klaxon, no doubt indicating that Allura had wandered off once more for a planet-threatening jaunt in the woods, _life would be a lot easier if I were an insomniac_.


	35. Too soon? (Pidge/Voltron, Chip))

"So?" Pidge said, pushing his glasses up nervously. "What do you think? Is it too soon to introduce him to the parents?"

Chip blinked a couple of times and then looked from his brother to the giant robot – with a fucking flaming sword – standing behind him and thought very, very carefully about what he was going to say.

"I don't know," he said at last. "I think Mom might have a heart attack."

"It's because it's a guy, right?"

"No," Chip said slowly. "Although, I admit, that could be a part of it."


	36. Quiet moment at a party (Keith/Sven)

Keith quietly closed the door behind him, cutting off the noise of the party within. He closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his head against the ancient wood and letting the cool, evening smells of nature wash over him.

God, he'd _kill_ for a cigarette right now.

A low, dry chuckle made him smile and he didn't open his eyes until after Sven had kissed him, tasting of butter and salt and expensive wines.

"What, no smoke?" Sven said as he stepped further into Keith's space, boxing him in between his heat and the cool, smooth wood of the old door.

"Trying to cut down. Someone keeps telling me they're bad for me."

"Ah, well, doctors," Sven said, and Keith could feel the curve of Sven's smile against his lips. "What do they know?"


	37. ...Huh. (Voltron/Voltron)

Pidge tilted his head to one side and blinked. "Huh."

"Yeah," Chip said.

"Is he--?"

"Yup."

"But aren't they--?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

Pidge straightened his head and pursed his lips. "Well. That was unexpected."

Chip brought him a beer and shrugged. "Not really. I mean, what other outcome can you expect when you've got two semi-sentient robots with three hundred terabytes of hardcore yaoi stored in their memory servers?"

"…Good point."


	38. Equipment Malfunction (Keith/Lance)

"I just. One second," Lance said and he slid off of Keith and fled to the bathroom.

Keith stared at, wearing an expression of stunned disbelief – which was completely understandable given that he was handcuffed to the bed with a raging hardon. "Lance!"

"One second! I promise!" Lance shouted back, and then stared down at his dick, which had absolutely refused to get with the program and remained limp and uninterested despite the presence of a naked, horny Keith in the next room.

"You're killing me here," he hissed to it, for all the good that did. "And I mean that quite literally because if you don't start shaping up Keith will probably kill me and then where will you be?"

There was, unsurprisingly, no answer.

"Shit." Lance paced the length of the counter. He splashed his face with water, gave one more look at his uncooperative nether regions and slowly exited the bathroom.

"Lance," Keith said in the carefully controlled voice he used just before he went ballistic.

"Sorry. I um." Lance gestured vaguely downwards.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Okay. Um." Keith rattled his handcuffs. "Wanna let me out?"

"Oh! Yeah. Sure." Lance unlocked the cuffs and he eyed Keith carefully.

"Hey." Keith grabbed Lance's arm and pulled him close. He cupped Lance's face in his hands and kissed him, slow and gentle and a little dirty and, nope, not even a twinge, which made Lance groan for all the wrong reasons.

"Sorry," he said again.

"No problem. We don't have to have sex tonight."

"Uh huh." Lance reached down and gently grabbed Keith's cock, grinning a little when Keith's eyes fluttered closed and he moaned, soft and low and deep in his throat. "Right."

Keith cleared his throat and opened his eyes and carefully removed Lance's hand from his groin. "We, Lance. _We_ don't have to have sex. _I_ on the other hand plan on taking care of this problem right now."

"Keith—"

"No, it's no problem, Lance. I'll just be a minute," Keith said and Lance groaned again and glared down at his still uncooperative crotch.

"Killing me," he hissed, and when he looked up his mouth went dry because, well, he'd kind of expected Keith to go off to the bathroom and, er, take care of the problem, not do it right here, with his eyes closed and making those soft, lewd noises – gasping and panting and little as he sped up, and even if Lance had been able to string together two coherent sentences and even think about reaching down and helping Keith, it would've been too late because Keith was making those high pitched "oh!" noises he made as he came and then it was all over except for the heavy breathing.

"There," Keith said, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair and grinning, all soft, chocolate eyes and loose, relaxed limbs. "Much better. Night!"

Lance closed his mouth and swallowed a couple of times and –

No.

No fucking way.

He glared down at his dick – all hard and aching and needy and _now_? Fucking _now_ when Keith was all orgasmed out and making the soft sleepy noises he made before he fell asleep?

Lance groaned and fell back onto the bed. "Fucking killing me," he sighed.


	39. Chocolate Ice Cream (Hunk/Cliff)

"You know," Hunk said as he licked his spoon. "You can't always expect it to be this easy."

"I know," Cliff said.

"I mean, I'm not the kind of guy who can be bought off with a pint of chocolate ice cream."

"I know."

"And I'm still pissed at you." Hunk paused with the spoon in his mouth and glanced over at Cliff to make sure Cliff was wearing the proper expression of contrition. "One pint does not forgiveness make."

"I know," Cliff said, and he didn't look contrite at all. "That's why I brought two."


	40. Career Advancement (Pidge, Chip)

"I swear, as soon as I figure out how you cheated I'm going to—" Pidge was saying and then Chip was grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to one side and clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up," Chip hissed, and Pidge froze, imaging the worst -- a hijacked ship, piles of dead bodies – and then he heard the noise Chip had heard and rolled his eyes and pulled Chip's hand down.

"Dude. I thought you stopped doing this."

"Blackmail is a perfectly legitimate form of career advancement," Chip said and Pidge snorted and muttered, "And people think _I'm_ the evil twin."


	41. Fu Manchu (Chip, Pidge)

" ' Grow a mustache'," Pidge said. " 'It'll be different. People'll stop mixing us up.' Hah! I should've had my head examined! _Why_ do I keep listening to you?"

"I said you should grow a mustache," Chip said. "Not a Fu Manchu. Everybody knows the evil twin has a Fu Manchu."

"Uh huh." Pidge wiped the sweat out of his eyes and glared at his brother. "And, anyway, _you_ were the one who blew up the lab. I don't see why _I_ should've gotten the KP duty."

Chip shrugged. "What can I say? Such is the power of the Fu Manchu."

"Huh," Pidge snorted and he threw a potato at Chip. "Well, the Fu Manchu orders you to shut up and help me peel."


End file.
